


foothold

by turnyourankle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Government, Hate to Love, I'm not sure how many more space tags I can add, M/M, Outer Space, Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, if that wasn't clear enough., it's more suspicion to love tbh but that's not a tag, it's set in space on alternate planets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-25 20:44:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12043929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnyourankle/pseuds/turnyourankle
Summary: Louis has crossed the galaxy with a ship full of crystals; they’re the only thing he has to offer in exchange for safe harbor. He thought getting to his destination would be the hardest part, hoping that once he got his family to safety everything would fall back into place; Louis struggles to adapt while his sisters thrive. Louis suspects Emperor Styles may have something to do with it.





	foothold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neonmoonlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonmoonlight/gifts).



> neonmoonlight: your space prompt is the one that captivated me the most, and this is what it brought out. I hope it lives up to your expectations. This is not in my usual style, so I do hope it will be received well. 
> 
> Huge thanks to Nic who looked this over for me, and to everyone who held my hand and listened to me trying to hammer this out.
> 
> To everyone else: thank you for giving this a try.

As far as holding rooms went, it wasn’t that bad. 

The chair Louis was sitting on was comfortable enough, and, while he knew the same guards who brought him here in the first place were stationed outside, they weren’t treating him poorly. He had a tall bottle of water that he sipped at as he stood by the window to the city below. He let the water rest on his tongue, getting used to the metallic taste as his eyes grazed over the buildings along the horizon. The city looked vibrant, the brightly coloured buildings stacked next to each other like odd puzzle pieces, creating an unnatural map of colors against the pale sky. 

Despite all that, he was probably being watched. It made sense really. The guards had been suspicious when Louis had asked to see the Emperor, which he expected, and when he passed on his reasoning why, their faces twisted with doubt. Lyst had a good reputation, that’s why he came here first. But he’d still been prepared to be interrogated; instead he was offered to wait while they escalated the matter in private. He had no doubt that there were cameras or scanners or built in electronic veils tracking his movements. He had to stay in character, acting young and insecure, scuffing the floor with his shoe and pulling his sleeves over his fists. 

Louis wondered, briefly, how long he would have to wait. The girls knew that if he didn’t return to the ship within 48 hours they should keep going, travel onward to the next planet on their list, but somehow he doubted they would. They were too loyal, would probably try to storm the city on their own looking for him; would probably trade every crystal they had just for his freedom, sacrificing themselves. 

He sighed heavily, the push of air filtering through his lips the only sound in the silent room. It made his fingers twitch. Louis’d gotten so used to being in close quarters with his sisters as they steered their ship, he’d gotten used to the sound of voices cocooning him. Even back home there was nary a quiet moment, the low level hum of the mines coming from deep underground, regardless of where you were. As he pressed his weight down on the floor, he wondered briefly if the rest of Lyst was this silent. He'd never been to a planet with no mines before; couldn't imagine what would replace those comforting rumbles. 

He tried to imagine what was happening deep in the bowels of the palace. No doubt one the twitchy men who’d met with him had run off to find the Emperor, holographic palette in hand. Louis had no idea what the emperor looked like, but he could still picture the amazement on his face as the images of amaranthine crystals were made clear.

The raw crystals may have had a roughened and dull exterior, but they should be immediately recognizable, especially to someone who depended on them for fuel. Even with the reddish shine being a bit faded from lack of care and light during their trip, the crystals lived up to their name, practically shining from within. 

Louis’ heart thudded harder as he imagined the nameless, faceless Emperor’s breath catching in his throat, fingers reaching out to touch the holographic image, fingertips pushing against empty air.

It had to work. The people of Lyst needed the crystals, and if things were right, there was no way they could pass up a meeting with Louis and locate them on their own. The protection shield on the ship was too strong for that.

Or so he hoped. He’d never been to Lyst and wasn’t familiar with their technology, but from what he knew, whatever hacks they had should be no match for his ship's protective shields. They were the best -- in this galaxy, at least. 

He tried to calm himself, using his existing nerves to project the image of a nervous teen that he’d been trying to portray. The idea had come from Lottie, who’d suggested she be the one to approach Lyst because a young girl would be seen as less of a threat than an adult. Louis hadnt’ wanted to put her in that position, and he knew he could pull off looking younger. It had seemed to work, the guards eyeing Louis’ bare chin and messy fringe. Undoubtedly confused as to how he even got to the palace in the first place. 

Louis swallowed down a snort, covering his face with his fist. 

He was interrupted by a quick rap on the clear door, and he didn’t have to feign his surprise at the sudden crack of sound, blinking with heavy lids under his swoop of hair.

“Emperor Styles will see you,” the tall man at the door spoke, not bothering to cross the threshold into the room. It was the same man who’d met with Louis in the first place, same stiff shoulders and slicked back hair. There seemed to be the slightest crack in his composure now, however, somewhat of a nervous hum of energy as he lead Louis out into the palace.

That had to be a good sign. 

The man gestured for one of the guards to follow, and he stepped behind Louis, trailing them as his escort stepped ahead. Quick steps and heels clicked along the marbled floors. It almost felt like Louis was being lead on an elaborate journey through the palace. He was unsure whether it was to disorient him, or to overwhelm him, leaving him breathless from crystalline pillars and arches towering above them. 

He was brought into a large room with walls covered in gold mosaic. The pieces were large and reflective enough that Louis could see distorted reflections as he looked at them. It was dizzying, probably on purpose. They were certainly pulling out all the stops to leave him humbled. He grit his teeth, training his eyes to the floor. 

He didn’t even notice when his escort stopped in front of a large stone table, and he looked up only to be faced with a man sitting at the head of the table. He wasn’t what Louis expected. 

There was no doubt in his mind that it was Emperor Styles: severe looking with a high collar tight around his neck and hair pushed behind his ears. He laced his fingers together in a fist rested on the table. Wide faced with a prominent widow’s peak giving way to a deep set frown. His chin jutted out as he dismissed Louis’ companion, face otherwise still. 

“Have a seat,” Styles said, and Louis shook out his shoulders before pulling out the chair across from him. He must look out of place in his tattered hooded sweater. It was probably working in Louis’ benefit though, and he consciously mirrored Styles’ hand placement on the table. He wasn’t going to cave first. He was supposed to be a nervous teenager offering Lyst and Emperor Styles a crystal mine, after all. He wouldn’t speak first.

“I don’t believe I was given a name,” Styles said after a beat of silence, voice syrupy and slow, not a hint of reproach in it.

Louis sucked in his cheeks, emphasizing their gauntness. “Louis,” he said, and fell back into silence. 

Styles continued, “You requested to see me.” Louis nodded, tongue darting out of his mouth to swipe over his lip. Styles was certainly taking his time. “Which means you know who I am. Don’t believe I’ve the same privilege.”

“You’ve my name, Emperor Styles.” The title rolled right off his tongue, followed by a hint of a smirk. Louis rolled his shoulders, making them slope intentionally, making himself smaller. Styles seemed unbothered. 

“So you’re Louis. Of…?”

“Don’t think that should matter.” Louis followed it with a smile, exposing sharp teeth. 

“Alright.” Styles returned the smile with one of his own. “If I’m to be on a first name basis with you, it seems only fair you should call me Harry.”

Louis blinked, trying to keep his expression blank. He didn’t particularly intend on following through on that, preferring not to seem too friendly with Styles. This was a business transaction. Besides, it was most likely a trap; an old school method of disorienting someone, making it seem like they were on the same level only to pull out a trump card and toppling the deck when it was least expected. 

Louis wasn’t falling for it.

Styles’ cheek dented as he bit the inside of it, eyes narrowing. Louis’ lack of response must be unsettling, at least a little bit. “So. To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting, Louis? I assume you’d like something in exchange for the crystals. Unless you’ve come here to taunt us.” He tightened his features, eyes remaining unblinking as he studied Louis. 

Louis stared right back, his hair fell to the side as he tipped his head . His fingers twitched almost imperceptibly. He wanted to push his hair back, but he knew that would show too much of his face; he couldn't risk it. Still, his eyes remained trained on Styles’.

“I’ve come to ask for safe harbor.” 

Styles couldn’t control his frown, eyebrows pushing closer together. “You don’t need crystals for that. Lyst has safe harbor laws.” 

“It’s not just for me. It’s for my family.” A slight tremble passed over Louis’ chin before he clenched his jaw shut again and pursed his lips, his nerves slipping through.

“In exchange for all the crystals in your possession?”

“All three hundred pounds of them.” His voice wheezed out and Styles nodded sagely. 

“How large of a family are we talking about?”

“Four girls. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Styles nodded along, sitting back in his chair. “They yours, then? Is this a kidnapping case? D’you steal them away from their mother, and that’s why you’re looking for safe harbor?”

Louis laughed drily, the sharp sound of it tinged with fear and confusion. “I’m not--” He shook his head. “No. Too young for that.” Louis almost winked, but caught Styles’ stern expression. Styles leaned forward, his features coming into focus as he moved into Louis’ face. Louis tried to remain still and unfazed as Styles’ eyes bore into him.

“I know you’re older than I am.”

Louis’ mouth dropped open, a breath punched out of him as shock travelled to the pit of his stomach. His first, impossible, thought was that Styles had some sort of ocular implant that allowed him to read Louis in the room. Then he remembered being scanned for weapons upon entering the holding room. It must’ve been able to scan for cell growth. “It was that scanner, wasn’t it?” Louis shook his head. “Still too young to have had these four. They’re my sisters.”

Styles raised an eyebrow in a silent question and Louis laughed again, none of it reaching his eyes. “No, they haven’t been kidnapped.”

“I’ll need a name, then. I’m guessing you want them to get an education. Join society at some point. Unless you plan on uprooting them again in a year or less. But I don’t think you would’ve asked for safe harbor if that were the case.”

Louis’ brow furrowed, and his fingers went up to his forehead, pushing away the hair that hid his eyes. There was no point in trying to keep his face covered or hiding the fine lines around his eyes anymore. 

“Right.” Louis licked his lips, top lip disappearing as he bit into it. He’d already gotten caught in a lie once today, not even having spent a day here. It seemed foolish to try again. He weighed his options, and decided to tell the truth. “Tomlinson.” He tried to remain proud where he sat. There was a possibility that Styles would think this was a fake name, anyway. He almost hoped as much. 

Styles smiled tightly and stood up, offering his hand to Louis for a handshake. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you to Lyst, Mr. Tomlinson.”

 

✖

  

Louis knew that he was a valuable asset to Styles and Lyst, even after handing the crystals over. So while he didn’t expect to be shoved out of the palace doors with nothing but the clothes on his back and a clap on the shoulder, he didn’t expect-- well, this. 

Styles seemed insistent on keeping him and his sisters nearby. He seemed insistent on staying near in general, personally welcoming the girls when they deplaned. He wore a broad smile that seemed at odds with how carefully coiffed he was otherwise, hands carefully clasped behind his back. 

Louis indicated to them all to step forward and introduce themselves, and they did so with ease. He caught Fizzy’s sideways glance at Styles even as she curtsied, and saw the way Lottie elbowed her as they stood next to each other. It didn’t seem like Styles noticed, at least, shifting his attention to Daisy and Phoebe, who stepped forward tentatively, holding each others’ hands. To anyone unfamiliar with them, it must’ve looked like they were were nervous, but Louis could tell that they were busy trying to categorize Styles’ behavior and intent. Louis’ chest swelled with pride at their sharpness, though, he'd have preferred that they never had to use their smarts this way. 

“Lovely to meet you, thank you for your service.” Styles bent down and shook the girls’ free hands. Phoebe’s eyes darted towards Louis, surprise evident, and Louis raised his brows in response. At least he wasn’t the only one unnerved by Styles’ overt friendliness. 

“I’m Harry,” he said, smiling broadly and encouraging the girls to introduce themselves. Louis still hadn’t quite figured him out. Louis couldn’t tell anymore if Styles was trying to lull Louis into a sense of complacency only to pull the rug out from under him later on. Styles turned to Louis, and gestured for him and the girls to follow. “Time to settle into your new place.”

Housing had been one of the first things that had come up when Louis and Styles discussed the terms of their deal. It had been a sterile meeting; Louis was offered a hot, bitter drink that was a sorry excuse for tea and it made his stomach turn, rendering him more sensitive to the matter at hand. Styles had offered them the use of the palace wings that were normally reserved for diplomatic stays; Louis protested it immediately. 

“We don’t want special treatment,” Louis insisted with squared shoulders when Harry pressed the matter. It felt dirty and unearned, like something that would cast far more attention on him and his sisters than he wanted. No doubt there would be talk amongst the staff of a whole family taking up residence where leaders from faraway galaxies were meant to live. And the gossip would likely trickle down into the city, leading to questions and attention and rubbernecks. No; he wanted to avoid that at all cost. 

“Technically you are diplomats,” Harry asserted and Louis’ eyebrows shot up, forehead creasing. “Well. Emissaries?”

“Right.” His eyebrows were still lifted, disbelief still coloring his features. 

Styles seemed amused, continuing, “Unless this is when you tell me you’re adversaries and plan on overturning the government.” 

Louis scoffed at that. He understood it was a joke supposed to ease the tension, but he wasn’t interested in playing along. They weren’t adversaries, but they also weren’t friends. And he knew that Styles knew this. Pretending that they were in any way equal would be disingenuous. “No, my sisters are children, there will be no involving them in politics. We just want to live normal lives.” He tried to make his intent clear, boring his eyes into Styles. Hard as it might be for an Emperor by lineage to understand the desire to just blend into the crowd, he wanted to hammer home his point. 

“That’s not--” Harry paused and collected himself. He regained his professional composure, the corners of his mouth stiffening. “There are unused staff quarters. But they wouldn’t be very private.”

Louis consider this. “Would they have their own rooms and washrooms?”

“Yes, of course. Staff quarters are like small apartments with a shared kitchen between them. Usually staff eats together in their dining area. Not that you’d have to, naturally, though you’d still have to prepare your meals there.”

“Right. I suppose us getting an apartment somewhere in the actual city is out of the question?” 

“I would recommend against it.” He spoke gently but with his eyebrows ever furrowed. 

Looking at the bigger picture it did make sense, Louis was loath to admit it but it was true. If they got a place to live in the city, they’d undoubtedly have to pay for it, somehow. Have to fill it with things that they didn’t have. What might work is if they docked the ship somewhere and used it as their home base. But they’d still be on top of each other then, still have to use the galley to cook and eat. Still be relegated to sharing two adjoining rooms with no privacy. Louis would still need help, would still be in debt to the state--in debt to Styles. Probably more than if they just occupied quarters in the palace that normally stood empty. His chest puffed out with a resignated breath. “Staff quarters it is, I suppose.” 

Styles smiled stiffly, as if he’d won this round but didn’t want to reveal just how happy he was about it. It left Louis feeling uneasy, and he was grateful that the palace was large enough that they probably wouldn’t be running into each other that much. He couldn’t quite spend his days trying to decipher Styles’ expressions, and reading between the lines of his meted out replies. The worst part is Louis knew he would, if he were faced with Styles everyday, get lost in his morbid voice and the tug of his mouth when he spoke.

Louis was reminded of that as he trailed behind Styles as he escorted them to their living quarters. It was more than Styles' face that fascinated him; his gait and the way the fabric of his top shifted over his hips as he walked captivated Louis’ attention. Louis lifted his gaze intentionally, and squeezed Phoebe’s shoulder as he guided her along. 

They were flanked by staff members that Louis recognized from before. Fleetingly, he wondered if they’d be living in staff quarters too, and if it would be uncomfortable for them to share a dining room table with him and his sisters. 

Aside from them, there no were visible security guards, which made Louis wonder if they were incognito, or if Styles really trusted him that much. As Louis' mind wandered so did his eyes, back to the nape of Styles’ neck, the spot where his hair rubbed against his collar. Louis winced and thanked his fates when Styles stopped at a door and pressed it open, turning in their direction, removing the offending sight from Louis’ view. 

“The touchpad will be programmed with all of your fingerprints. Each time the door opens, there’ll be a reading inside the room to announce who’s entering.”

Louis blinked at Style’s spiel, giving him a tight smile as he stepped into the suite. He followed tightly on Styles’ heels, palms flush against one another as he rubbed his hands together.

“Wow,” Fizzy breathed out, and Louis avoided looking at her, tried to pretend like he wasn’t impressed with everything Styles was telling them. Nearly everything was automated and highly technological, down to invisible sound shields that could be activated between sections of the suite in order to maintain their privacy. It was a far cry from the ship, where nearly every conversation and muted sniffle echoed throughout, the cockpit the only safe space. If these were subpar staff quarters, Louis was not eager to know what the diplomat wing entailed. 

When Louis finally faced Styles, he noticed that he seemed to be awaiting a reaction, face expectant, eyes brighter than Louis could remember seeing. He winced internally at himself for even noting that, having catalogued Styles’ expressions and pulled his top lip into his mouth. This seemed to concern Styles, his brow knotting tightly.

“All good?” He asked.

The nod he got in response was contained, Louis’ chin jutting stiffly. “New normal, isn’t it?” Louis exhaled sharply. He could mask whatever was happening with him with bleak nihilism. It’s not like it wasn’t true. 

“Right,” Styles said, and Louis could swear he could feel his eyes trailing behind him. He continued, “There's only three rooms as the children of staff normally share rooms.”

“Thought I wouldn’t have to share a room with Fizzy anymore,” Lottie proclaimed before pouting, standing at one of the bow windows and sitting dramatically with her bag swinging against her legs.

“‘Scuse me,” Fizzy spoke up. It was a far cry from the timid way in which she'd introduced herself to Styles. Hadn't even spent one night in their new dwelling and already they were bickering. The bow of tension inside Louis’ chest eased slightly. That had to be a good sign that they would adapt quickly. 

Styles seemed entertained and, for a moment he seemed younger. Louis remembered Styles pointing out that Louis was older than him, but it was hard to tell from the way his eyebrows creased nearly constantly. The way his cuffs were snug against his wrists, wrist bone gently protruding against the fabric, the way he stood proudly and with ease. It was a confidence Louis associated with age, but no doubt came from Styles’ authority. However he got it, he commanded well, but Louis was far more intrigued at the slip of the mask than anything else.

Even his tone had an upward lilt when he spoke. “The diplomatic suites all are modeled to provide each individual with their own room.” His eyes darted towards Louis’; when their gazes locked, Styles’ narrowed as he was overtook with a smile. “Was told you were absolutely not interested in that type of special treatment. “

“I like special treatment,” Lottie said with a pout. “Especially when it gives me my own room.”

“Oh please, like I'll be in there anyway.” Fizzy rolled her eyes. “Is there a library we can use? Think I’d like to find out more about the history of the place. Might even move in there to spare our dearest Charlotte.”

Styles was back to beaming at them, happy to provide assistance, apparently. “There is a state one in the south wing where the public have access. There's also a smaller guest library in the diplomatic wing.” 

Lottie pinched her lips, directing her pout towards louis. “The place _this guy_ didn't want us to stay, right?”

Louis sucked in his cheeks, ignoring her barb. 

Styles’ lip quirked in amusement. “They're both available to you. I've also got a private book collection, plenty of history there, and classic literature, if that strikes your fancy.”

“Okay, that's enough,” Louis said, voice ringing out louder than intended. Even Daisy and Phoebe reacted; their heads turning in his direction. He refused to look at them, though he could sense their curious expressions without even laying eyes on them. 

Louis pursed his lips as he pushed out a labored breath. He was going to have to deal with that later. Or rather, he was going to have to avoid dealing with that later. Still, there were matters at hand. He turned his attention back to Styles, asking, “D’we need anything else to settle in then? I’m guessing we won’t get keys to the building. Does that mean we can’t leave?”

The frown was back in full force, Styles’ hairline pulling lower. “You're not prisoners. You can go and come as you please. The staff knows you're staying here. It might be wise not to leave the city until you've received identification papers, but that shouldn't take long. I put that in motion as soon as I received all your names.”

“Okay,” Louis said, the only word he could aim for. He nodded along. The seriousness with which Harry had been speaking pinched at the base of his throat. It was the most emotion Louis'd seen out of him since they’d met. 

Styles’ chest puffed out as he inhaled, and his regular demeanor returned. “I'll leave you to settle in.” He turned on his heels, fingers still pulling at the ring on his middle finger. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Louis blinked at him as the door closed, and the girls darted towards their rooms, no doubt to claim their preferred beds as if they were staying at camp. Louis remained still for a beat longer, Styles’ words echoing in his head. _Let_ me _know_ , not _us_. He’d mentioned the comm system within the palace, but Louis never expected that they would have direct access to Styles. Not even with his closest aides, really. 

He didn’t want to think about what it might mean that they’d be offered that. 

Louis didn't feel joy as he stepped into his room. There was relief; shoulders going slack as soon as his bags hit the carpeted floor. His bed was placed below a window, and he could picture the way the moonlight would pour in at night. If he left it open, he could be kissed by a fresh breeze every morning. 

It wasn't home, not yet. But it was something. They weren't surrounded by space and dead matter. Just knowing that there are people outside - heck, even inside the palace - living their lives, walking, thinking, feeling. It was exhilarating, knowing that they weren't alone anymore.

It was as if he was finally allowed to stay still. 

Truthfully, Styles - or really, his staff - had done a good job. Although he’d said that they would share a kitchen with the rest of the staff, there seemed to be a corner pantry packed high with local foods and snacks. Some sounded more odd than others, with unfamiliar ingredients, and they all sat in the common room, trying to guess whether each treat would be sweet or savoury. Fizzy started a list, trying to figure out which ingredients correlated with each flavour, “For future reference,” she said. They ate until their bellies were full, missing the dinnertime that Styles told them about. It didn’t feel like they missed out, though. It felt like a necessary housewarming, just the five of them. 

Despite the initial complaints from Lottie it seemed all four girls were pleased. Their beds were blanketed with tightly woven fabrics that seemed to put them right to sleep. and regulated their body temperature. Even pushing his hand against the sheets. Louis could feel some sort of energy field, which he found unsettling. He wasn’t sure how keen he was on being lulled to sleep by some nanotechnology, but the girls seemed excited so he kept his mouth shut.

This was supposed to be the promised land. He couldn’t very well start complaining before spending the night. 

 

✖

 

Louis awoke after barely a couple of hours of sleep to Daisy and Phoebe gathered at his door, blankets tight around their shoulders. Their steps broke through the silent shield bracketing his room only when they stepped inside.

“Room too big for just the two of you?” He asked, and they nodded in unison. There was a nip in his chest. Despite it all, they still needed him. He raised himself up, sleepily. “Alright, squirts. Let’s get comfy.”

There wasn't enough space for all of them in the bed, so he settled himself on the floor. The rug made it bearable somehow, but still, he insisted, “Only doing this once, yeah?” 

“What if we have nightmares?” Daisy asked, followed immediately by a yawn as she cuddled into the bed.

“Well, that’s the exception to the rule. But let’s hope for few of those, yeah?” 

Louis only realized he’d fallen asleep when he awoke again, this time to the addition of Lottie and Fizzy who had piled themselves together on the floor across the room. They snuffled quietly, Lottie’s leg kicking from the pile of blankets they’d built for themselves. It was as if the silence and solitude had gotten the best of all of them, missing the rhythmic sound of all of their breathing, the sound that had lulled them all to sleep before. As if they still needed him, needed each other, even though they were finally safe.

 

✖

 

Since they’d arrived before the start of the school year, Louis and Styles’ advisors had a schedule to allow the girls to learn enough that they could enroll in the levels their age groups belonged in. He didn’t consult the girls on the matter, making the executive decision that targeted tutoring until the start of the school year would be beneficial. Besides, it would be good to keep them busy. 

That wasn’t to say Louis was completely on board with it. He wasn’t familiar with the Lyst educational system, so he had to trust that Styles and the advisors he met with had his sisters’ best interests at heart. That they would actually supply them with tutors who would treat them with respect despite their unknown origins. Logically, they should be fine. It didn’t benefit the government or the country, the planet, to teach the girls nonsense. Breeding failure was not likely the endgame. 

Still, Louis was nervous about it. He kept a happy front, walking each of the girls to their respective classes. Louis’d been so focused on taking care of his sisters that once they were all occupied, he realized he had nothing arranged for himself. There was nothing for him to do. 

He could return to their suite but what for? There was no bickering to break up, no fights to take sides in, no mechanical problems to fix. He wasn’t quite interested in the libraries that Fizzy seemed so keen to know more about; he wasn’t hungry, so a visit to the kitchens was unnecessary. He’d passed a few garden terraces which he’d no doubt have access to, so sitting outside and soaking up the sun was an option. Perhaps the best option of all.

Louis’ feet started to lead him through a hallway, clearly unable to remain still. He had yet to completely figure out the layout of the palace, and, despite eyeing his surroundings curiously, it felt like he was walking with a purpose. 

It was only once he stepped beyond the engine room that he realized where he was headed: towards the flight deck. Familiarity flooded his veins as the ships came into view, and he kept walking towards the spot where he knew his own ship was docked. It was in a corner next to Styles’ private ship; it was used for leisure trips, he had been told. He shook his head at the contrast. Louis’ own ship was smaller, more compact and with a camouflaged exterior. It was almost laughable, looking at the two of them, to think that his ship was the one that had been housing five people on an intergalactic journey for months. 

He didn’t miss that, the travel, but it pinched at his gut to see what was essentially their former home parked next to what was a hobby ship. He wondered, briefly, as he ducked into it, how often Styles even tended to his own ship. Did he ever step foot inside, to clean it up. Was it just another room to him that was tended to by others? He couldn’t relate, and his thoughts kept circling around Styles and his hypothetical ship maintenance as he started cleaning out the cockpit. He couldn’t imagine Styles getting down to do gritty work in his stiff ensembles, his hair falling into his eyes as sweat beaded at his temple… There were a lot of things he couldn’t imagine, and tried to visualize anyway. As his hands dusted off the walls, he imagined Styles’ doing the same, wondering if it would go faster for him since they were larger. He shuddered at the thought, biting at the meat of his cheek.

He moved from room to room, mind occupied and hands busying themselves with scrubbing down the walls, the control panels, the few pieces of furniture. He had never been the cleanest of people, something Lottie was happy to point out every time he’d told her to clean up after herself. But he didn’t know what else to do, for now. The vastness of the palace felt overwhelming, but inside the ship he had a purpose. And it helped him keep in mind how different of people he and Styles were. Their ships may be deck neighbors, but that was as far as their similarities went.

He didn’t stop to consider what it meant that he wanted to set himself apart from Styles so desperately. 

He hadn’t realized how long he’d been stowed away until a thud behind him caught his attention. He had to push his hair out of his face from where he was parked on his old bed. He’d found an old notebook of his, back from before they’d even left home, and gotten stuck reading through it. 

There was a clunk at the door, and Louis’ head whipped up to see Lottie stepping in, hesitantly.

“Been here all day?” Lottie arched an eyebrow, pushing her hip against the doorframe. Her expression was skeptical, and Louis became painfully aware of how dishevelled he himself must look. The lack of ventilation in the ship showed itself in the way sweat stains under his arms. 

“Yeah,” he responded heavily. She looked just as prim as she’d been when he dropped her off at class in the morning, probably with all the more knowledge in her, and here he was, all sweaty and tattered, stuck in their old ship. 

“All day, huh?” Her eyebrows raised as Louis got himself up, dusting off his thighs, hoping to take the shame away from essentially having holed up all day. “It’s dinner time,” she added, as if Louis hadn’t figured it out already. He couldn’t even quite figure out where the time went. 

“Can’t let the old ship rust already,” he commented and patted the walls of the ship. A poor excuse, and Lottie knew it, judging from the way she rolled her eyes. 

“You didn’t even name the ship, can’t fool me into thinking you care that much.” She cocked her head and Louis stifled a comeback. She was right that he never named the ship, but mostly because that felt like surrendering to the idea that it was their permanent home. He didn’t want to think of that now. 

“Maybe you should get something to do with your time, before you go all stir crazy,” Lottie said, not even looking at Louis as she started to head out. Louis jogged up to her, not hesitating to bump his shoulder against hers. "Would be like you to get cabin fever just when we don't even have to be on the ship."

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis responded. She was stating the obvious, really, but he still knew she was right. He needed to keep himself occupied before he turned into some dysfunctional hermit, pacing his old ship and reminiscing of the days when he got to fly it.

Especially when it wasn’t even for any good reason. Just because he’d gotten so caught up in ridiculous hypotheticals as he scrubbed his now near-useless ship. He scratched the back of his head, nails catching on sweat and tangles. It was embarrassing.

 

✖

 

Despite thinking about what Lottie said the night before, Louis found himself steering towards the flight deck again the next day, drawn to it like a magnet. He didn’t even think much about it until he came across a mechanic who greeted him fondly.

“Back at work on the old beaut?” He nodded towards Louis’ ship. Louis blinked in response. “Must be a lot of work to be done.”

“Yeah,” Louis answered, dumbfounded. He shouldn’t have been because, of course that’s what the mechanic would think. Louis had spent an entire day in the ship without even taking it anywhere. His cursing could probably be heard through the open hatch as well. Which only made sense if he was performing stubborn repairs. Doing work. Which is something most everyone did, rather than just sit and kick knick knacks about before looking over old notes. 

“Holler if you need any help,” the mechanic added before waving him off, going back to work. Louis only had time to wave in response, far more meekly than intended.

He got into the ship, and immediately leapt into the cockpit. He wasn’t thinking much beyond having to do something, anything, and this was the most productive thing he could think of at this point in time. This was all he could do because it’s what he did best. 

Louis couldn’t go far, having to stay in Lyst’s orbit since he didn’t have papers yet to go elsewhere. He wasn’t eager to start exploring the neighbouring planets, but it still felt like he was constrained. The net was cast wide, but it was still a net.

The deeper into the atmosphere he got, the clearer his mind started to get. His heartbeat seemed to even out, and somehow he was less on edge than while wrapped in his amazing blankets back in his sound-isolated, secure bedroom. The stars greeted him easily, and his mouth twitched with a smile.

He needed to do something. His mind wheedled back to the words of the mechanic on deck; how he thought that Louis had been working on the ship.

That might be something: finding work. It would solve a lot of problems. If he managed to get a job, he could start saving up money, and feel like he was contributing to the family again. He wasn’t sure how long it might take, but eventually he could undoubtedly move them out into the city. He wouldn’t have to take advantage of Styles’ hospitality. And if he could pay for a house of their own, then it’s not like they could refuse to let them go without going back on the claim that they were free to come and go as they pleased. 

He couldn’t imagine that he’d fit in with the mechanics as he wasn’t familiar with their particular equipment. But there were other things he could do.

By the time he steered back down to the palace flight deck, Louis had devised a plan of action.

Mining was something Louis could do, something he’d been trained in since a young age and that he thought he excelled at. Lyst didn’t have any mines-- that’s why they were so desperate for the crystals Louis could offer. Which meant Louis would have to find a mining planet somewhere nearby and get himself a job there. 

As soon as he got his papers in his hand, he clutched them gingerly before folding them into a leather holder. He would get a lot of use out of them. That’s how he ended up spending most of the following week away from Lyst, scouting nearby planets for work. 

He started thinking about places where he could work, hopping off to some of the nearby mining planets. They were close enough that he could go there and back in a day, at least to visit and inquire for work. But the problem was they were boring. Or they weren’t, exactly -- the citizens were perfectly fine, but the work they offered wasn’t fun. Louis wasn’t interested in copper or salt or coal. But that’s all they had to offer.

If he could finally focus on something good, something for him, he wanted to be able to enjoy it. So he started going farther and farther out into the galaxy. Far enough that he needed to spend the night, not wanting to pilot the ship after having been up for so long.

He was rejuvenated when he returned, even though Daisy and Phoebe seemed less than happy to see him, not even stopping their breakfast to greet him when he returned back home in the early morning.

“No warm welcomes here, is there?” He questioned, slightly confused.

Fizzy tilted her head up from where she sat in the living room, a glass of orange juice tucked in her hand. “Oh, thought you were Harry, to be honest.”

Louis couldn’t control the strange shake of the head he did at that, but luckily for him no one was paying attention. “Since when are we on a first name basis with the Emperor,” he said making sure to emphasize Styles’ title.

“He’s cool,” Phoebe muttered into her cereal. Louis’ face did the sudden shake again, but this time he thought Fizzy caught it. She was wearing a smirk he’d normally be proud to see, but this time felt attacked by.

“How would you know from the total of five minutes you’ve spent with him?” Louis asked, straightening himself out. It was too early, or late, for this conversation.

“He came by yesterday and since you abandoned us, he insisted on having us over for dinner on the other side of the palace.” Louis’ stomach dropped at that. So much for no special treatment. “He’s cool,” she repeated.

“Okay. Do you feel uncomfortable going to dinner without me? We can make sure you’re set up here when I’m away--” He was interrupted by Fizzy’s snort. He wasn’t sure what her intent was other than shutting the conversation down. “Well. I’ll be here all weekend.”

“You’ll get to know Harry too, then,” Daisy said, and Louis didn’t have to ask before she continued, “He invited us to go on a tour of the city. Since we haven’t had time to go exploring.”

“Or the appropriate company,” muttered Phoebe, and Louis couldn’t tell if she meant for it to be heard.

“Well, I’ll be happy to accompany all of you on this tour,” he said, to an eye rolling Daisy. It wouldn’t do, so Louis started listing off all the reasons why he was excited to spend the weekend with all of them.

 

✖

 

One of the things he wasn’t looking forward to was being accompanied by Styles. Louis still wasn’t sure why he was spending so much time with them, but watching him interact with his sisters made something ugly twist inside of his gut. There had to be something behind all of this, this unmitigated kindness when all Louis wanted to do was dump the crystals and get free, which in his mind, was synonymous for being left alone.

It was even worse that the girls seemed to be falling for it, accepting his familiarity and speaking of him as if he were a friend. Louis nearly suspected that Lottie had a crush on Styles from the way she genuinely smiled at whatever he said. Probably unfunny jokes, had to be, from the way his own smile was wide and dimple-popping. Objectively speaking, Louis could see why she might. Although Styles was nearly always buttoned up, he seemed to have let loose more on this excursion. Probably because he wasn’t really representing his empire, he was partaking in civilian activities, out on the town for the weekend.

It made it worse, really, seeing Harry’s hair loose around his shoulders. He would push it back over his head repeatedly, palms sweeping over his face. The look of concentration nearly making Louis choke on his spit. So yeah, he could see it. He just wished it weren’t happening. He couldn’t think of anything good coming of it, especially if the feeling was reciprocated.

They traveled down a canal that ran through the city, the first time Louis stepped foot outside the palace and into the meat of the town. It was so foreign, it made his heart race. He didn’t even need to comfort his sisters as they seemed at ease, joking with Styles and talking to the two escorts that came along. They’d gotten to know them all while Louis was away.

Meanwhile, Louis was hunched at the back of the gondola, staring into the water. The pitch black water seemed to suck up the light, with barely any reflection of the sun beating down on it. It reminded him of space, of slicing through it. Staring at the water, close enough that he could dip is his fingers in it if he wanted to, made him want to leave. 

Instead, he screwed his eyes shut, and trailed behind the others whilethey skipped ahead. He only joined the line when Fizzy looked behind, eyes searching for him, followed by Styles giving him a look Louis couldn’t decipher. Whatever it was, Louis didn’t want to think about it. 

 

✖

 

“Another overnight trip?” Styles’ voice echoed throughout the flight deck, and caused Louis to fumble with his things. Harry scuffed his toe against Louis’ rucksack, filled to the brim. 

Louis’ hair was in his eyes, and he blew it upward to get a better look at Styles. He regretted it immediately as he glanced up at him where he hovered above. His breath nearly caught in his throat, and he swallowed many times as he watched Harry look down at him.

“Not sure that’s any of your business.” He smiled with gritted teeth. 

Styles’ eyebrows quirked before settling into a deeper frown. “You’re not wrong, I suppose.” He shook his head, pursed lips protruding. Louis had to stop staring. “Is it something we’ve done?” He asked. Louis had nothing to say to that. It didn’t even make sense as a question. Styles seemed to sense his confusion, fingers going to fix hair that wasn’t astray. “I’ve said you can ask for whatever you want. If you’re unhappy with our deal, we can work something else out.”

Louis didn’t answer; couldn’t answer really. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Styles; it was that, fundamentally, he didn’t understand him. “I don’t see why this matters to you.”

Harry bit down on his lip, frown deepening, said “If it’s something you’re concerned about-- If you need more help or protection--”

Louis had to stop himself from laughing out loud, a twist of the mouth shining through. “I'm not running away from anything.”

Styles rapped his knuckles against the railings, jaw jutting out. He straightened his back. “Avoiding then,” Styles said with a sweep of his fingers over the freshly cleaned bannister. Louis had to look away, the visual sending shivers down his spine. “Because there’s no other reason for you to leave your sisters here alone. They need you.”

Bile rose in Louis’ throat at the accusation and the claim that he couldn’t even say for certain he agreed with anymore.

“A bit rich coming from you. Don’t see you spending time with your own family, they don’t even live on this side of the planet, do they? Quite certain I can decide what to do, and where to go, on my own.” Louis picked his bag up, hefting it over his shoulder. He wanted to storm into the ship and take off dramatically, but that would leave him hanging too. He didn’t understand why Styles was so interested in what Louis was doing, but he wanted to. Curiosity niggled deep in his spine. He wanted to hear more from Styles the person, whom he was talking to now. All the pleasantries and diplomatic stiffness melted away into his twisted expression. As if Louis’ business was personal to him. 

“So when you said you wanted safe harbor, I suppose you really just meant you wanted to offload your siblings,” Styles said this so casually that Louis’ mouth dropped open in shock. No. They’d escaped Soliton together when it became clear they couldn’t stay anymore. His sisters had left behind their lives, their friends, their memories to take a chance at another life with him.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to uproot them again in a year. Isn’t that what going elsewhere for work is going to do?” 

“I’m not taking them with me. I can send them funds from anywhere in the galaxy. Even from the next one over.” 

“Funds…” Harry started and his mouth twitched, as if it all made sense suddenly. As if he could possibly know or relate to what Louis was thinking . “So you’re looking for work. I guess that’s doable. You can ship off to Devos for the week and come back on the weekend, seeing your sisters once a week. Or find a shift job elsewhere with unpredictable hours. Spend, your life on a vessel trapped between two planets. Sounds like a lonely life.”

Louis wanted to bite back, wanted to snarl at Styles that he didn’t have any place to say, since he apparently wandered the palace by his lonesome. If he had a family of his own, maybe he wouldn’t care so much about Louis’. The vitriol and rage burned on his tongue and he bit down on it, trying to swallow it down as his chest ached with rage.

Because Styles had a point. 

Louis didn’t uproot them all as a unit only to be away from them most of the time. Daisy and Phoebe still needed a parental figure, and he couldn’t put that on Fizzy and Lottie. He didn’t want them to resent him for making them shoulder that responsibility before they were ready. Beyond that, he didn’t want to be away from them if he could avoid it. But he also couldn’t be left on his own, wandering through the passageways of the palace, learning each nook and cranny. He’d lose his mind if that’s what he was left to do.

“What do you propose?” He ended up asking, voice sounding more choked up than intended. His rage at Styles’ accusations still bubbled just below the surface. “‘M not a politician. Can’t engineer for shit. Definitely not fit for cleaning or gardening. Think we both know I don’t have the temperament of a diplomat,” Louis was rambling now. If he had to stay where did he even belong?

“We could always use more hands in the kitchen,” Styles offered, and Louis almost started laughing. He must not have hid his amusement very well, because a peek of a smile seemed to emerge on Styles’ face. It softened his features, the otherwise constant frown smoothing out between his brows. “What?”

“I can’t cook.” 

Styles shrugged, smile still present. “All the better to learn, isn’t it?” He reached out, gesturing for Louis to hand over his bag. Louis dropped it from his shoulder, and was nearly blinded with Styles’ smile as he took it from him, leading them away from the flight deck. 

 

✖

 

Styles didn’t waste any time bringing him to the kitchens personally, almost as if he thought that leaving Louis on his own would allow him to flee, even though Louis had explained that that’s not what he was about in the slightest. It wasn’t like there was anywhere he could flee to, anyway, his only hiding spot no longer a good one.

It’s not that Louis expected to be put to work at the stove right away, but he expected more than shuffling boxes of root vegetables from the coolers to the sous chefs until his palms were raw.

He wasn’t even sure what the purpose was, gathering up bulbs and shoots and peels as they were chopped off, back into another crate and out the door. No wonder Styles hadn’t been concerned with Louis’ cooking skills if this was what he was expected to do.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to move the prep station closer to the coolers?” Louis asked after the dinner rush. His feet were aching, and the prim white scrubs he’d been told to wear were covered in vegetable stains and sweat. 

Niall, the kitchen lead that he’d been personally introduced to, seemed to consider it. His lips pursed as he walked the distance between the prep station and the coolers. “It is a bit far,” he said, as if he only just realized.

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” He crossed his arms, bringing his thumb up to his chin so he could scratch. “This a project you want to take on?”

Louis blinked, eyes darting across the kitchen. “What?”

“Reorganizing this place. I mean. If we move the prep station, it’s gonna take the place of something else. It’ll have to be re-arranged, yeah?” Niall knocked against some of the metal counters, fingers flicking against wall mounted grids. “This could probably be fixed up as well.”

“Right. I guess so.” Louis wiped his hands onto his apron, already dusted with purple dirt. It’s not like there was much to do, cutting up vegetables not the most stimulating activity. He had nothing to lose by doing it.

“Can’t guarantee it’ll be done but can’t hurt to try,” Niall added before ushering Louis towards the changing rooms. The rest of the kitchen staff had already left, leaving just the two of them to use them. 

Louis’ joints ached when he got changed, and there was a singular sense of satisfaction in throwing his sullied apron into the laundry bin. Even though he hadn’t prepared any meals of his own, the evidence of his work was on the white fabric. And tomorrow he’d be able to sully another one in between working on a new floorplan for the kitchen. 

When Louis joined the girls at the table later, he found himself sinking back in his seat, letting the weight of the day wash over him. It had been a long day, and his joints ached still, but it was satisfying. He’d been close to the girls, and, once he had a better hang of his responsibilities in the kitchen, he’d probably be able to take breaks. Probably meet up with them for lunches.

Maybe he could save up enough money in a couple months that they could all get out of Styles’ hair. 

 

✖

 

It had been a tough week, and he got hit with atmosphere sickness halfway through his stay on the surface. He had never gotten any before, but it was probably because he kept going back in and out of ‘sphere. It would explain why the girls were fine; they’d stayed on the ground since they’d all landed. If they’d experienced any sickness at all, it probably hadn’t been that severe.

But, of course, Louis had been dumb, and had to fly in and out of orbit repeatedly, and was now suffering the consequences.

The moonlight filtering into his room was nauseating, and he almost felt like he had high altitude sickness, lungs feeling wrung out. It was impossible to sleep feeling like this, even though his feet ached from the amount of running he had to do in the kitchens.

He couldn’t stand it for long, twisting out of his sheets at the flood of thoughts filling his head. Everything he’d managed to push away while slaving away in the kitchen came roaring back easily at the first sight of an empty head to fill with smoke and mirrors. This was the danger of having an empty mind and the time for it to wander. The only way he could think of to combat it was to go wandering on his own. 

Louis had grown more familiar with the palace over the past weeks, and he knew exactly where he wanted to go. The one rooftop balcony where he could touch the sky. 

The sky above was green and dusky, the clouds resembling steam above him, flickering with lights. Thin and porous. He still wasn’t used to it but it didn't make him feel ill anymore, if anything. Seeing the way the sky wrapped around the earth helped still his lurching stomach.

He’d brought his pack of rationed smokes with him, and he rolled one between his fingers. He’d kept them near during his time in the ship, knowing that he couldn’t smoke any of them in there. He could’ve sworn his fingers twitched regularly while in the air. He’d managed not to touch them so far, but it felt like the perfect night for him to enjoy one. He was alone, outside, bathed in moonlight. What a sight he must be, he laughed to himself, turning on the rooftop with his arms spread wide.

Halfway through, he braced himself against a railing, and he was dizzy enough that he thought he saw Styles approaching. Except he wasn’t imagining it, and he nearly choked on his on spit at the sight. Styles had his collar loose, shirty not even tucked into what must’ve been sleep pants. Louis blinked slowly, still unconvinced that this wasn’t an unorthodox side effect of his sickness. 

This was too good to be true, almost like he willed this version of Styles into life. 

“Evening,” Styles said, his prim expression a stark contrast to his wild curls falling over his face. He bit down on his lip, pulling at his hair with naked fingers. _So he takes off his rings before bed,_ crossed Louis’ mind, and he shook his head.

Smoke still in his mouth, he opted to salute Styles in a greeting. Leaning back against the bannister, elbows resting on it as he lit his smoke back up. He sucked in a breath, craving the smoke rhat was filling his mouth, his lungs. 

“Those are illegal,” Styles said with barely a sniff. As if he knew on sight what they were. 

“Not where I come from.” Louis half expected a jibe about how he’d rejected diplomatic status and therefore also immunity, but instead Styles just nodded along. He leaned back, shoulders sloping as his thumb flexed. “Think that's the most you've ever told me about your planet. “

Louis sucked his top lip into his mouth. It was a simple slip, nothing more. “You know things. “

“Things I’ve deduced. That’s not quite the same, is it? Guessing that you were a miner because you brought pounds of mined crystals can’t quite be considered an accomplishment.”

Louis shrugged. He couldn’t tell how that made him feel. That he hid himself so well that Styles, who seemed to have an unnatural occupation with him, couldn’t figure things out. Should he be proud of that? Or was it a bad sign that he had managed to be so closed off, separating himself from his past?

“The girls must’ve slipped at some point,” Louis commented, and waited for Styles to agree. He still couldn’t quite figure him out, and the softer version of him here was unsettling. His skin was right there-- close enough to touch. Louis wouldn’t be surprised if the only reason Styles had showed up is because he’d somehow sensed that Louis was out here, having a good time and feeling at peace. Undisturbed. Unbothered by men who stared at him, whose throats bobbed with every swallow under those tight collars. Unbothered by the sight of more skin from a man who was, for all intents, not a natural ally of his.

Harry watched him. “They’ve not said much either. Their tutors are quite impressed with their broad knowledge base. Nothing that could narrow anything down.”

It was almost like the moons above them crafted an alternate reality where they could drop the pretense. Perhaps it was the lack of official garb, Styles’ hair shining green in the moonlight, making him look paler than usual. Louis didn’t even pretend that he had anything to say, still letting his eyes land heavily on Styles’ lips as they moved again.

“You’ve no interest in telling me, do you?”

Louis smiled around his smoke, keeping his teeth clamped down tightly on it. “Don’t think it matters much.”

“It’s part of you though, it has to be.”

“It’s in the past,” Louis answered in a far more clipped tone than intended. Styles just pressed his tongue along the inside of his lip, making it bulge. Even when petulant, Louis couldn’t turn his eyes away. He had to shake himself out of whatever this was. He had to not trail his eyes lower to the swell of Style’s collarbone 

“Do you want to try it?” Louis asked. Styles had been staring at Louis’ mouth, and it was unsettling him, uncertain as to the meaning.

“Yeah, alright.” Styles bit his lower lip, dropping his gaze. He took the smoke and sucked at it, lips puckered around the filter. 

It stirred something in Louis, and he urged himself to look away. Without being able to help himself, he mumbled, “I can tell you one thing about home. What used to be home.”

Styles arched his eyebrows, shoulder popping. He nodded easily, sucking another breath of smoke in before passing the smoke back. 

“The sky wasn’t green. It was blue,” Louis said, and stubbed out the smoke. He didn’t need more buzz in him, his blood already fizzing with something akin to nerves. As he watched Styles turn his head up towards the sky, his own attention was pulled between his silhouette and the strong arch of his back down to his hips. Louis kept his lip bitten for as long as he could, hoping not to give himself away. 

 

✖

 

Louis ended up screwing his eyes shut as soon as he got back into this bed. His skin was buzzing, still. He kept replaying the visual of Styles’ mouth wrapping around the smoke. The way the light of the moons above filtered through the loose strands of his hair. His sleepy expression; his human front. Touchable, approachable. 

If Louis thought hard enough, he could imagine that Styles rolling out of bed just moments before he joined Louis on the rooftop. He could imagined him in bed, sheets wrapped around his chest, legs twined between even more of them. His bed would be covered in five sets of sheets, at least. Louis could imagine Harry getting up, pulling all the sheets aside just with one hand, one large hand with thick fingers. Louis’ breath got more laboured the more he thought about it, and, pushing his hand down, he could feel himself throbbing. Just at the thought of Harry’s warm body against the sheets, at the way his skin would’ve rubbed against them. Of Harry’s puffed breaths from his wet, shiny mouth. How would Harry taste? He was a mystery, and Louis felt like he’d gotten just enough of a glimpse that he nearly saw the whole thing.

It was too much, the images in his mind and knowing that he had a private room. Louis tossed off, imagining Harry’s long fingers pressing him into the mattress, fingertips digging into his hips. He didn’t have to stop himself from breathing loudly, which was, in a way, a curse as he panted into the air. Knowing each sound would dissolve into nothingness, knowing this was all temporary. 

It was the only reason he allowed himself that. 

 

✖

 

Louis split his focus in the kitchen with the renovation planning. He’d been allowed to use the office to the side of the kitchen where event planning would normally take place. That was how he ended up finding out about the large summit that was on the books. There were multiple RSVP cards stacked high that he needed to move if he wanted to use the desk. 

Louis’ curiosity was piqued, and he looked at the guest list. As far as he knew, there was nothing prohibiting him from taking a glance, not when it was out in the open. Any kitchen staff who walked in could take a look. Still, he nearly felt like he was crossing a line, dipping his toe into Harry’s affairs.

It was a diverse list of origin planets, which seemed on par for such a large event. What Louis noted, more so, was that the meal list was altogether familiar. There was nothing out of the ordinary from what they would have served at local events on Lyst. As someone who was still adapting to the native Lyst diet, it seemed to him a terrible enterprise to serve exactly this to people with different tastes. 

He couldn’t help but bring it up to Niall as they prepped for the dinner service. Another round of cored roots, roasted venison and bitter greens. 

“There’s a lot of people from far away, isn’t there? For that meeting? Wouldn’t it be better to cater the menu to what they’d expect? I mean, we can’t necessarily replicate the dishes completely but some sort of...fusion? Might be interesting. Shows that we value their culture and contributions.”

Niall blinked at that, knife dropping on the cutting board. “Well,” he said, scratching at his chin. “Not so sure we’ve got what we need. Normally we jus’ go along with what’s requested. Admin hasn’t asked for ‘nything special.”

Louis licked his lips as he brought up the papers in his mind again. He’d been to some of the planets listed just a couple of weeks back. “I don’t think it should be difficult.” He cleared his throat, not wanting to be too brash in flaunting his knowledge. “I’ve been to a few of the planets. Could probably look up stuff from the others.”

“Hm,” Niall hummed, seemingly considering it. 

“Like-- if it’s a bit more of a fusion between Lyst traditions and their own, don’t you think that might work well?”

“You might be onto something.” Niall tipped his head to the side. “You did inventory last week, yeah? So you know what we’ve got in stock.”

Louis shrugged.

“Alright, maybe you can brainstorm some ideas for that. Seem to have a knack for solving things, don’t ya?” Niall said, pulling at his own garb before gesturing to the pots that were being set up on the cook tops. “Help me solve this soup shortage for now, yeah?”

 

✖

 

Louis didn’t realize that working on the menu for the summit meant he would get to attend.

Or, well, be a point person as Niall called it. He was to be in charge of the service, since his menu suggestions were accepted. And since he oversaw most of the prep, and sampled all of the meals. “Seem to do well with responsibility, don’t see why this can’t be a nice trial,” Niall had said. At least all the kitchen staff were seasoned, as were the servers.

Which left him to stand in a corner during the proceedings, hands clasped against the small of his back, eyes attentive on everyone’s plates and cups. Ready to gesture at one of the servers to tend to guests should the opportunity arise.

Even though he wasn’t participating in the meeting, the topic of conversation made it abundantly difficult not to.

From the moment his staff of servers had brought out the black root aperitif, the conversation that commenced was about fuel. A way for Lyst to gain more fuel to secure their future independently without relying on further trade agreements.

It was making Louis uneasy, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. He’d already given Harry, given the whole of his empire, enough crystals to last beyond his lifetime. Why would they need more? For a panicked, fleeting moment, he thought he’d hear that the crystals he brought were defunct, or had a shorter half-life because of the way they’d been transported. Gravity damaged, or something of the sort.

But it seemed none of that was the case. Instead, as the meal went on, more ideas were flung across the tables about how to replicate the amaranthine crystals. 

“If we can distill the essence, we might be able to farm it.”

“We’ve not had much luck so far doing that in labs. They seem impenetrable to our technology,” Harry commented before biting the lip of his cup, as if he was struggling to keep his calm. He swirled the dregs, and it was a cue for Louis to step up behind him with a jug to refill his cup.

Louis didn’t want to interrupt the meeting, not as they seemed to be working hard to figure out a way to distill the crystals, replicate them, grow them in a lab. He knew that wasn’t possible though; Harry’s concentrated face was just too painful to look at, knowing the effort was going nowhere. It wasn’t possible for them to replicate the climate conditions; that was the whole point. Lyst didn’t have enough natural minerals, the climate conditions weren’t complex enough. They couldn’t create the necessary crystals for them to source their power from. Even just trying felt like a truly risky situation, and Louis was a bit startled to hear they’d already attempted it.

As he leaned over Harry’s shoulder to refill his cup, he turned towards Harry’s ear and spoke in a low voice, “It can’t be done.” 

Harry’s head seemed to shoot up, jaw tensing with a severe tilt of the head. “What was that?” Harry asked, and the way his tone flattened left Louis a bit out of breath.

He knew he crossed a line. He knew before even looking at Harry’s face, he knew without looking at the guests, without looking at the servers. He kept staring straight ahead. He wasn’t dealing with the Harry who offered him and his sisters help, who offered him a job because he wanted Louis to get to spend time with his family. This was the Emperor, and properly so. Even more so than the first time they had met. Louis could feel the hair rising on the back of his neck at his faux pas.

Luckily, the prim dress code allowed him to feign his composure while he stood up straight again. He cradled his carafe, feeling it get slippery between his palms. 

“I don’t believe you were asked to be part of the panel,” Harry said, before bringing his glass of water to his mouth. His gaze was steely and secure.

“Right. I think you’ve got everything you need.” Louis should’ve offered the carafe to one of the servers still stationed in the room. Someone else might want more to drink. But he couldn’t focus on anything other than getting out of the room. Getting away from the sharpness in Harry’s face and eyes. 

Harry turned his attention back to his guests as Louis backed away. He said, “It hasn’t been done, that’s true. That doesn’t mean we can’t try.” 

There was a ringing in Louis’ head as he walked back to the kitchen, holding his tray high and proud with a perfect form. Louis knew that he was right though. It was futile to try. And he couldn’t be blamed for trying to warn Harry before he devised a plan that would involve multiple nations from multiple planets. 

It wasn’t just him speaking up that had him sweating. It was also the realization that he thought Harry was mad at him.

But more than that, it was the realization that he was thinking of Harry on a first name basis, and he had no idea when that switch happened.

 

✖

 

Louis was shaken for the rest of the day. Physically, he was fine. And the girls didn’t seem suspicious in the least, which was always a good sign. But he couldn’t even think of the next time he was going to see Harry, and he ached for a confrontation. It felt like he’d been left hanging, standing at the edge of a cliff. He’d nearly tumbled down when Harry’s face had grown stiff under his eyes during the meeting. And Louis needed to see him again, to know whether he should step back or take a leap.

The only thing he could think of on short notice was to take over the breakfast delivery shift the next morning.

As much as Louis craved to see Harry, he should’ve realized that he wasn’t ready to see him stirring in his room. Where everything felt so utterly _him_ that it nearly made Louis’ chest ache. He could never prepare himself for that. But it was particularly difficult the day after realizing he didn’t just think of Harry as Emperor Styles, that there was a soft underbelly to him that Louis wanted to nuzzle against. If only just for a second. If only just to know what it would be like to have his undivided attention for a brief moment. It had to be just that sudden craving because Harry was attractive, he was there, and he paid attention. It’d been so long since Louis had time to even consider another man,being confronted with Harry’s presence it was natural that he’d start to crave him. It was a perfect storm.

Even still, this was a terrible choice. But Louis knew he had to step foot inside the eye of the storm now. At least it was his choice.

“Haven’t seen you up early before.” Harry’s voice was groggy, and his face seemed much the same. Of course he wasn’t actually in bed, sitting on a chaise at the foot of it with a holopad in his lap. Louis wanted to shake his head. Why did he think he’d been waking Harry up while he slept. This wasn’t a lover’s breakfast in bed after a tiff. This was business. 

“We work in shifts. Guess you’ve not been around when it’s been my turn.” The lie bled into his lungs, and his fingers trembled as he served up Harry's meal. It felt imperative that he do this correctly, the need for Harry to forgive him for his outburst burned deep in his throat. 

“Looks a bit heavy, you sure you don’t need a hand?” Harry asked, moving himself off the chaise. The robe he was wearing slipped over his skin, and Louis’ heart hammered in his chest at the thought that he might see more. But Harry was covered up in sleep pants and a low cut top. It was fine. He had to swallow his tongue. Still, he stood firm. “Would you treat any other help this way?”

“I don’t know them like I know you.” 

“You mean they’ve never spoken up against you,” Louis corrected. Harry weighed his head.

“Can't say they did. Certainly not when they weren’t asked for their opinion.” He took a drink from the forsaken tea that Louis still thought tasted of dirty rain water. His knife sliced through his bread. “So. Would you care to share what that was about?”

It snapped Louis out of his staring. They'd already established that they didn't have a standard relationship. But this still skirted the line. He’d put himself in this position, he realized. He could’ve approached Harry at his office. Face him as his subordinate that stepped out of line. But he’d placed himself in Harry’s bedroom, providing him a morning meal. This was Harry. Louis didn’t know who he was to him just yet, but he ached to figure out what their boundaries were. Wanted to know why Harry was so lenient with him. It had to extend to more than just Louis being brash in general, speaking up against him repeatedly.

“That whole crystal duping thing. It can’t be done.” He nearly wanted to add, _I’d know_ but it went without saying, didn’t it? That’s how he knew that his contribution would be appreciated, that he would get what he wanted in exchange. 

Harry studied him carefully, placing his cup back on his tray. “We have to try.”

“What you have is going to last a century at least. Unless you’ve been foolish and wasted a chunk of it on your experiments.”

“No, haven’t started yet.” A small shake of the head accompanied Harry’s words. Louis still didn’t get it. 

“It’s not going to affect you. You could just. Evacuate to another planet. Perks of being an Emperor, isn’t it? You can just pick up and go elsewhere.”

“We can't all just leave our homes easily, Louis.” Harry’s tone was pitying, as if he couldn’t even fathom leaving his planet as casually as he thought Louis had done. The simple admittance screwed its way into Louis’ gut. _It wasn't easy_ , Louis wanted to say. Contrary to what Harry thought, they'd never had a choice. They didn't have a leader that was looking ahead beyond his lifetime. Didn't have someone that cared about the collapse of an entire planet, an entire civilization. 

Harry must’ve noticed that Louis was grinding his teeth where he stood. “Louis,” his voice was tender and raw as if he regretted what he just said.

He had to bite back before using Harry’s name to his face. He still felt the flush of impropriety at how easily the switch happened. It felt too revealing, on the heel of too many boundaries being crossed in too short a time span. 

So instead of speaking, Louis shook his head. He flexed his jaw. He tried to smile to ease the tension, at least a little bit. It died in his lips. Luckily, he could excuse himself. He had other breakfasts to serve. And while he could imagine staying with Harry for now, to sit and watch him push the tines of his forks between his plush lips… But Louis knew this wasn't the time for it. It might never be the time for it. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” he said. His attempt at an upbeat expression twisted his face into a grimace. He carried it the rest of the morning, but no one else bothered to inquire about how he was doing. He was, oddly, grateful for it. 

 

✖

 

While Louis thought he'd really stepped in it,Harry didn’t let up on him after that. If anything, it seemed like he requested Louis’ presence at most of the state meals. Not as a server, but as a supervisor who sometimes was asked to comment on matters at hand.

It shocked some of the guests, Louis could tell, having Harry turn around after one of their passionate speeches only to have him ask Louis for input. But Louis was only happy to oblige. He had no clue if anything he said was useful, but it seemed Harry used their interactions to gauge what kind of people he was dealing with. If they seemed to mind watching Harry interact jovially with staff that they considered beneath his stature, they weren’t worth doing business with. 

At least that’s what he told Louis.

Louis was even requested to come along during a sojourn to Declan. It felt different, somehow. He was in charge of the galley, but everything seemed to be running smoothly, each crew member a well oiled veteran on state trips.

Everything he asked about was already done. Harry had several meetings with people on the surface--or rather, under the surface as that’s where civilization lay--which left Louis and Niall with plenty of free time to wander around an underground plaza with large fountains that seemed to defy gravity. Louis had never seen anything like it, and Niall decided to take him sightseeing while they were down there. 

It was exhilarating, getting to travel and explore again with no agenda behind it. 

Harry only returned to the ship for lunch. The different climate meant that Harry wasn't wearing his traditional garb, fitted with the loose linens he seemed to wear on his own time. His chest flashed as he bent over his bowls of soup, fingers scratching at the hollow of his throat. 

It felt almost like he was doing it on purpose. Like he knew, like Louis had inadvertently revealed more than he wanted. He spent most of his time in Harry’s presence sucking his cheeks in, remaining still, trying to combat whatever it was that Harry saw in him. 

Harry seemed amused, his clothes growing lighter and looser, flimsy around his lithe, powerful frame. Louis seriously considered that Harry was trying to throw him off balance on purpose. A consideration he took even more seriously when they ran into each other that night on the observation deck. 

This time it wasn't that Louis had trouble sleeping, disoriented, but rather that he was trying to decipher Harry's behavior. He didn't even try to hide it, hoping that if he could crack it, he could figure out an appropriate response. 

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Harry said, the paleness of his skin surfacing in the dark. Louis bit his lip, nose scrunching up. He tried to stare resolutely ahead, turning only the slightest bit towards Harry.

Harry wasn’t discouraged, and continued, “How’s this view treating you?”

Louis tempered his face before turning towards Harry. He looked back out the glass pane. The sky was black, dotted with stars. The clouds from Declan were close enough that they resembled a thick mist that the ship floated above.

It reminded him of his journey to Lyst. “It’s more familiar. No offense.”

Harry raised his hands, mouth turning downward as he shook his head. “Oh, I know the feeling. That’s why I prefer to stay on the ship for short trips like this. Trying to get used to other planets’ individual quirks is--” He heaved a sigh. “It’s a lot for just a short trip.”

“Right.”

“You’re settling in alright, though, aren’t you? Certainly excelling in the kitchens.”

“I don’t know about that. With overseeing the kitchens, maybe.”

“Fair.” Harry's lips rolled into his mouth, head shaking most imperceptibly before words tumbled out of his mouth. “Have dinner with me.”

“Shouldn’t you be enjoying your free time, Emperor?” Louis asked, skin prickling at Harry’s nearness. Despite himself, he pushed himself off of the railing, nudging Harry’s shoulder.

“Doesn’t mean I have to do it alone. You’ve got free time, I’ve got free time. We can put them together for a monster-sized free time.” Harry’s face lit up the more he spoke, front teeth peeking out and digging into his bottom lip. 

“I'm not sure if that adds up since dinner is my work. Sounds like you want me to be at your beck and call,” Louis said, cheeks flaming with uncertainty at what Harry's reaction might be. 

“You wouldn't have to do any work,” Harry said with a cocked head. 

“Are you saying you've had a rogue cooking crew with us all along?” 

Harry's smile was bright, large enough that dimples dented his cheeks. The sightLouis’ heart thud harder. 

“I thought I’d cook.” Harry’s smile wavered briefly, and the uncertainty was enough for Louis to agree. The way Harry’s face scrunched up made Louis’ heart clench, and he knew he made right choice. Harry led the way, dimpling with delight. Louis was grateful that Harry only turned around every couple of steps, giving Louis enough time to let his own delight show on his face.

Harry’s quarters weren’t too extravagant, which seemed a bit surprising. Even more so was the galley he had at his disposal. He could probably have fixed to have his meals made in his own cabin every day, and yet he joined the crew for it. 

He set to work quickly, making something light that wouldn’t disrupt their sleep since it was already late.

“I’ve been told your sisters are highly gifted.”

“All of them?” Louis had to ask with a quirk of his mouth.

“They each have their specialties, but yes, they’re all great.” Harry seemed to understand it was a joke and Louis was nearly bowled over. Had Harry always been this way? He knew he'd stayed close to them, but Louis’d always interpreted his interest as one for his sisters. Especially from how Lottie wouldn't shut up about him and how _cool_ he was. 

Yet Harry was sitting across from Louis after preparing him a meal. Sitting across from Louis after having plated up soup and mead. Mead that was clearly going straight to Louis’ head, fizzing up any ounce of restraint he had. 

He felt bold, watching Harry bring his spoon to his mouth, tongue sticking out to lick at the liquid before pushing the spoon into his mouth. 

Without thinking he scooted farther down in his seat. His socked feet pushing against Harry's shin. It twitched under his touch, and Louis was scared to look up. Continuing the press of his toes upward, he could swear Harry parted his legs ever so slightly. 

Louis’ heart shot to his throat when Harry's hand wrapped around his ankle. 

“Louis. Look at me.” 

Louis had to obey as he could feel his pulse beating in his face. He must’ve looked a nervous wreck, the false bravado radiating off of him in waves. 

But when Louis looked at Harry, he seemed nervous. His brows knotted tightly, eyes narrowed. Louis exhaled shakily, wanting it to go away, wanting to press his thumb against Harry's forehead and smooth away any of the worry lines. 

“You don't have to do this. That's not. I didn't think--” his grip tightened around Louis’ ankle. 

“I wanted to. Want to.”

The breath Harry let out was labored, and he quickly dropped Louis’ foot before standing up. Louis’ eyes didn't leave him as he watched Harry walk over. He was mesmerized. He nearly felt like he was vibrating out of his skin. Harry didn't touch him, serious and waiting at his side. Only when he silently offered up his hand did Louis stand up, lacing his fingers with Harry's. 

“Louis,” Harry spoke with a trembling voice. That was all it took for Louis to lean in and press his mouth against Harry's. He must've leaned into it to meet him because the response was strong, his mouth chasing after Louis'. 

Their fingers were twined together, and it was as if each point where they touched was sparked with light. 

When they pulled apart, Louis started pulling Harry towards the bedroom. He watched himself do it, fingertips numb with all the nerves it took him. But he wasn't about to let this opportunity pass. It seemed like they were magnets, inexplicably pulled closer together now that they’d broken the seal.

“You know,” Harry started as he took the lead, arms circling Louis waist, squeezing him tightly before bringing his hands to cup his face. He pressed another kiss to Louis’ mouth, this one demanding, trying to take charge. 

For once, Louis didn't mind that at all. Harry pressed his forehead against Louis' before he breathed deeply, collecting himself. "This is the time to tell me." 

"Tell you what," Louis asked, nearly unnerved with how breathless he sounded. 

“If Louis isn't your real name. I don't want to--” Louis interrupted him with a kiss to his palms. 

“It's real. I haven't. Haven't lied to you, Harry,” Louis whispered his name. His heart nearly beat out of his chest at using Harry’s first name to his face. 

Harry's breath rattled, and Louis couldn't say why, couldn't say whether it was because Louis was pressing his hands against every inch of skin he could touch. “Did you think I did?”

Harry shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just--” He swallowed thickly. “I get the feeling you’d do anything to keep your family safe.”

“I would, yeah.”

“In the grand scheme of things, fake names don’t seem so outrageous.” 

Louis’ breath wheezed out of him sharply. He shook his head. “No.” He pulled Harry’s hand to his chest, where his heart still beat doubletime. “I couldn’t.”

A foreign sound burst from Harry’s throat before he tipped Louis over on the bed, pinning him his weight. Louis’ pulse didn’t slow in the slightest. The way Harry’s thumbs pressed against his bones as he undressed him madeLouis shudder. 

Louis let himself be handled, melting into the bed. He could scarcely remember the last time he’d let go like this. He wanted to pull Harry closer to him, arms trembling with the need to get nearer. But Harry had him. Had a firm grip on his legs, inching them apart. 

“Tell me to stop,” Harry said, burying his face in the crook of Louis’ neck. Teeth scraped across his skin. 

“No.” 

“No?” Harry's nostrils flared, his fingers pressing against the very centre of him. How could Louis want to stop now, when all his nerves were aflame? When Harry both stoked and stilled the heat that lit up every cell?

“No, don't stop. Don't.”

He couldn't describe how he felt other than drunk. He couldn't blame it on drink, the mead already out of his system, or even atmospheric adjustment. If anything, he was touch drunk, if possible. He hadn't been touched in so long, not like this. Not with Harry's reverent fingers pushing into his hair. Not with his solid weight matching each of his push and pull movements. 

Harry's thigh was solid between his own legs, and he couldn't control the thrust of his own hips seeking friction. He’d thought about this, he had. But none of it compared to the press of Harry, undeniably hard, against him.

He wasn't ready for the flushed embrace Harry pulled him into, wasn't ready for the tender touches. Fingertips bruised, his ribs, his waist as he cradled Louis. Held him still. Louis screwed his eyes shut so as to not give too much away, feeling like he might split open at any second. 

He couldn't stop the sounds that came from him, couldn't even parse the ones coming from Harry. His punches of breath, Harry pulsing inside of him. That was all. Everything narrowed down to that and that alone. 

 

✖

 

Louis wasn’t shaking when he got up to go back to his cabin, but he felt like he was trembling on the inside. Harry had wanted him to stay, but since he shared a cabin with Niall, he knew it’d be suspicious if he wasn’t there in the morning. 

Instead, he decided to take on the breakfast service again. He hadn’t served Harry personally since the time he took things in his hands, but this felt like an opportune time to make things even better. And, of course, the opportunity to still get to see him sleep soft.

Louis went to Harry’s room with the full intent to at least try to be professional, but he ended up on Harry’s lap almost immediately. Harry’s hair was still tangled and knotted from the way Louis had tugged at it the night before. His collarbone and neck bore the hint of a bite mark. Louis’ chest swelled with pride.

Harry managed to maneuver the food tray onto the bed, even with Louis’ bum in his lap. “Tea?” He smiled broadly, with warmth. 

“I’d rather the juice, to be honest. That thing you call tea is not quite up to my delicate tastebuds.”

“Does that mean I don’t get a kiss if I drink it?” Harry asked, his head askew, freshly filled cup hovering around his face.

“Hmm, give it a try,” Louis teased. 

Harry brought the cup to his mouth, and Louis watched as it parted, hugging the lip of the cup. He watched the way Harry’s throat bobbed, and how he licked his lips after, eyes heavy on Louis’. Louis cupped Harry’s jaw, thumb swiping along his cheekbone before he kissed him. He sucked Harry’s lower lip into his mouth, spurred on by Harry’s hands finding his hips, turning Louis further towards him. 

Louis had to let go when he lost control of his voice, an unexpected moan tickling the back of his throat. He licked his lips and wiped his mouth, as if he’d just devoured a fine meal. “You make it taste better.”

Harry’s dimple carved into his cheek as he smiled in response. “I can live with that.”

“So how has the trip been?” Louis asked, running his hand down Harry’s front. As much as he’d want to pick things back up, he didn’t want to make things weird in the long run. In the light of day, with their roles a bit more defined, this felt safer. “Lots of diplomating? Deciding important stuff? Making powerful allies?”

Harry nodded his head sideways, said, “Well, not much progress. We were looking at their underwater mines. Thinking we could replicate the environment here to grow the crystals but--”

Louis couldn’t control the shake of his head, the clench of his fist. If he weren’t still essentially in Harry’s lap, he’s sure he would’ve gotten away with it without Harry noticing. Or, at least, without Harry pointing it out. No luck this time though. Harry’s frown grew deeper as his fingers pressed into the small of Louis’ back.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Still on that, huh?” Louis tried to smile but it felt more like a grimace. 

“I never said I’d stop.” Harry looked confused. His grip around Louis slipped, and Louis took the opportunity to scramble away, acutely aware of how close they’d been.

“I told you it can't be done.“

“You said it can't be manufactured in a lab. This would be organic. “

“It wouldn't be the same. The climate isn't the same, the ecosystem and the elements-- whatever you did, you'd end up messing with it. The planet would probably end up eating itself." 

Harry raised his voice, despair evident, “Then what am I supposed to do, Louis? If you have the answer for everything, tell me that.”

“I don’t know,” Louis muttered through gritted teeth. 

“You're the only one who knows where to get them in the first place. I don’t see you offering to go get us more. If you’re not going to help, maybe you shouldn’t comment.”

Louis’ stomach dropped. His hand shot out to grab the edge of the bed as he lost his balance, words clicking into place. “Oh, my god. You did this on purpose?”

Harry’s mouth pursed, “What?”

“You thought you could fuck more out of me?” He was feeling hysterical, nearly delirious. He’d started to feel at ease, at home. He’d started to trust Harry, trust his feelings about him. When all along that nagging voice in his head had been right. He had been after something. That’s why he’d been so nice to the girls. That’s why he singled Louis out; he was probably able to tell that Louis’ eyes lingered, that he’d be ripe for the picking. That was why he wanted him to stay on Lyst instead of getting work elsewhere.

Shit. 

“Louis.” Harry seemed at a loss for words. His fingers raked through his hair making it stick out, curls haloing around his head in a devastating way. “No.”

“Then why are you asking me?” 

Harry’s face twisted. “You’re the last person to know anything about this. You speak on it as if you’re an authority. You’re devaluing the efforts I’m putting into trying to figure this out. It seems like you have something to say about it.”

Louis laughed then, and it echoed in the cabin.

“I thought-- I just thought. I don’t know. I thought you cared about me,” Harry sounded confused. He sounded like he meant it. But it was too late to backtrack now, the bile stewing in Louis’ stomach. Harry continued, “Thought that you’d want to protect your new home. Care enough for it?”

“S’not my home. Never was.” Louis shook his legs out as he collected himself. He felt like he was vibrating, thoroughly shaking apart. He almost laughed at the irony of it all; twice in two days Harry had made him fall apart. 

He was glad they were away from the palace, that the girls weren’t waiting for him. They would’ve seen right through him. Would’ve known right away something was terribly wrong.

Louis gathered his breath, thinking as he spoke, “When we go back, I want to leave. All of us. You’ll find us somewhere new to go.” Each word was bullet of intent as his mind whirred with a plan. They needed to get out of the palace. They could set up a loan, and Louis could repay it. “I’ll need another job.” His nostrils flared at that, a pinch in his lungs. He blinked furiously, processing Harry’s expression, just as pained as his own.

 

✖

 

Louis didn’t storm out of Harry’s quarters despite very ounce of rage simmering at a low boil in his veins. 

Still, he felt wound up and tight, head shaking with disappointment that he tried to swallow down. He’d been so dumb, he’d fallen for it, for Harry. His body had betrayed him. The steam left his lungs, the pressure leaving his aching head. He couldn’t quite pack up right away, and Harry had a point earlier when he’d implied that Louis was always running, leaving. He couldn’t do that anymore. He couldn’t put the girls through that. His plan of action was repeating itself in his mind. It would be fine. They still had a deal, and Harry would make good on it. Louis would make sure of it.

He would ask for a different rotation: he could possibly even transfer out of the kitchen entirely and into the restaurant for visitors. He could avoid all staff. all diplomats and Harry. He would need all the help he could get. It would be perfect. He would have to do it properly, put in a written request. But it was for the best. He wanted to do it right.

Louis could, technically, speak with Niall now, ask him to relocate him right away. But it felt a bit too rushed, an adrenaline soaked call, and he was trying to be better than that. He had a plan, and waiting until they got back to the surface wasn’t going to slow things down. 

Louis was expecting Harry to give him space when they returned to the palace. If nothing else, because he’d been rude enough when they last spoke. The quieter his mind became on the journey home, the more he felt like he’d overreacted. The thought that Harry might’ve been using him still filled his stomach with acid, enough that he constantly felt on verge of retching. But there was a nagging guilt there, too, that he should know better than to jeopardize his and his sisters’ situation. Whatever the truth was, Harry was responsible for their immediate well being. And he’d messed with that. They had a deal, a signed deal, but there was no telling whether Harry would still honor it. He hoped to god that he hadn’t ruined everything. 

He kept to himself as they left the ship, waited long enough that most of the crew had left, and he thought he was all by his lonesome on the flight deck. The only sound was the whirring of engines being put to sleep.

Louis felt Harry’s presence before he saw him, was cornered before he made it back to his room. His fingers closed around Louis’ elbow, and, while Louis’ shoulders tensed, his arm slackened completely at the touch.

“I wanted to talk. If you'll have me.” Harry’s voice was hushed and thick, nearly urgent. Louis tipped his head back, blinking in response. He could only nod at Harry’s brooding expression. 

“I was thinking tea?” Harry said. He could’ve led Louis away, but his fingers dropped from Louis’ arm. He waited for Louis to follow as he headed towards his own quarters. 

“I’m fine without.” Louis quirked his eyebrows. He could nearly feel the ghost of Harry’s touch from last time he'd had tea with him.

“It’s not my tea.” Harry ducked his head, shaking a box that he’d been holding. Louis hadn’t even noticed it. “Picked it up on Declan--I think it should be similar to the tea you’re used to.” He pinched his mouth, thumb worrying over his lower lip. Harry admitted, “I was going to save it for a special occasion.”

“Oh?” Louis’ breath caught below his throat, the sound nearly strangled. He wasn’t sure what to say to that, grateful that Harry didn’t seem to expect a response.

Harry rolled his lips. “Not quite what I had in mind, but a peace offering can count as a special occasion, right?”

“‘M not going to turn it down, that’s for sure.” 

Harry smiled at that, setting to work on brewing the tea. Louis watched as he picked out a sachet that looked like the ones from back home. His mouth watered already. 

“Didn’t just want to give you tea.” Harry dunked the sachet into a mug of hot water, and he handed it over to Louis. He wasn’t even making himself a cup. “If you really want, we can help you leave. I’m sure we can find some other planet you can move to, if you want to permanently relocate.” It sounded like he had more to say, but he interrupted himself, mouth twisting into a grimace.

Louis blinked, and let his tongue get scalded by the hot water. It scorched his throat going down, mouth feeling hot for more reasons than just the tea. 

Harry continued, “We’ve good relations with other planets; we can sign a new deal that protects you from extradition, if that’s your concern. We can find you another safe harbor.” Harry was bracing himself against the counter, thumbs flexing uneasily. Louis couldn’t take his eyes off of them, the way each tendon tensed with each of his breaths.

Louis shook his head. “That’s not.” He exhaled deeply, the air rattling his lungs. There was no point in keeping this from Harry anymore. “There’s nowhere for us to be sent back to.” Louis chanced a glance up to Harry’s face, his brooding expression deeper, confusion etched in every line. 

Louis continued, “Even if they found us. If they were still looking for us. We're defectors without a home, but at least we're alive.” He shrugged, trying to pass it off as a matter of fact statement. Because it was, really. Home didn’t exist. The place he’d been born, his sisters had been born. The schoolyard where he’d had his first kiss, the spot outside their house where he’d shoveled his first scoop of dirt, burying a time capsule with his friends. It was all gone. 

“Lou.” Harry's voice was raw, his fingers clasping Louis’. The strength of them an invitation Louis couldn't turn down, and he folded himself against Harry's chest, making himself smaller. Harry couldn't change the past, couldn't control the future, but he was here now. 

“I couldn’t help you. Even if I wanted. It's all stardust, if anything at all.” Louis was amazed that his voice was coming out, eyes still dry. Harry's biceps flexed as he held tighter into Louis, and Louis let himself sink farther down, until his forehead was flush with Harry’s throat, his nose smushed against Harry’s sternum. Just as close as they could get for now.

A tremulous exhale left his lungs. “They overfarmed the planet, going too deep. Was just a matter of time after that before it collapsed into itself.”

Louis thought he heard Harry speak, say, “‘M sorry, Lou,” but he focused more on the feel of Harry’s sold chest against him. These weren’t the actions of someone who just wanted to use him. His distrust seemed to evaporate, and he screwed his eyes shut.

“I don't want to leave again.”

“You don't have to,” Harry muttered hoarsely. 

Louis had fooled himself into thinking it would be easier to run. He’d gotten into the habit, after all; he’d gotten used to fighting. He shook his head against Harry’s chest before backing up, pushing his fingers into his hair, trying to straighten it out somewhat. “It’d be like running away, wouldn’t it? And I did say you were wrong about me doing that.” He smirked, couldn’t help it, and Harry’s expression cracked.

“I shouldn’t have said that. It was uncalled for.”

“A bit true though. Even if just technically.”

“You had a good reason though. I didn't--Didn't think about it.”

“Didn’t think about why someone would show up with trunk fulls of exactly what you needed? Didn’t think that planets were collapsing into themselves in this day and age?”

Harry laughed, loud and brash, and it warmed Louis’ chest. He pushed the back of his hand to his mouth. “Couldn’t afford to question it. You seemed harmless enough, anyway.”

“Oi!” Louis exclaimed, palm pressed flush against Harry’s chest. Harry grabbed his wrist, thumb stroking along the protruding bone. 

“It’s really brave, Louis.” 

Louis shrugged, unable to let himself accept the compliment entirely. It was something he had needed to do. But he didn’t want to discuss it further, really. He pulled far enough away that he could pick his tea back up, and went to take a seat on the sofa. Harry stood still, watching him for a beat before he joined him. There was space between them, but it didn't feel uneasy. It was like it was left there on purpose, to allow them to breathe, judgment unclouded, just for the moment. 

“What now?”

Harry shrugged, picking at his collar. He was still wearing the more casual garb from their travel, collar giving way to his nearly hairless chest. He asked, “What do you want to do?”

“Might not want to leave the planet”--Louis noted the flash of a smile on Harry’s face before continuing-- “but I do think I should probably get a new job. At least if we’re--” He gestured between them with his free hand, heart in his throat. Even with Harry’s palm pressed against his jaw just seconds ago, with having burrowed against his chest, it felt like walking onto thin ice.

“Only if you want,” Harry said, seriously, and Louis’ teeth bit down on his lower lip. Just succumbing to it felt so easy. He couldn’t even understand his past self trying to resist. 

“I do, yeah.”

“So that’s one thing down.” Harry smacked the couch with his declaration, and Louis cackled. “We just have to figure out _what_ you want to do. Any ideas?” Louis’ face scrunched up at that, and he shook his head. “What?” Harry asked, and Louis dug his knuckles along Harry’s flank, the softness there irresistible. 

“What did you want to be when you grew up?” Louis asked him, pursing his mouth as he did.

Harry cocked his head in confusion, the pinch of his eyebrows revealing he didn’t understand the question. Louis continued, pressing on, “Are we not at the get to know you portion of the date?”

Harry sucked in his cheeks, chin tucking into his chest as he laughed. “Well. I didn’t really have much choice. It was always going to be this.”

“So if someone asked you now what you’d like to do, what would you say?” Louis pressed. 

Harry’s face grew severe, a soft inhale following. “I’d have to think about it.”

Louis nodded. “Yeah. That’s my answer, too. I have to think about it. Don’t quite mind working the kitchens for now. But I’m not sure what I’d like to do. I was always supposed to be a miner. And then when it became clear we had to leave, I became a pilot, because I had to. Not sure what my new mission is. Probably best if it’s outside the palace though.”

The corners of Harry’s mouth pulled downward, and a pout etched itself on his face. It didn’t seem like he could control it, and Louis pushed at his cheek. “Don’t like the sound of that?”

Harry shrugged. “It makes sense, I know. I’ll just miss you, s’all.” He shrugged. “Certainly livened up those meetings.” His eyes sparkled at that, and Louis belly laughed. 

“Think the rest of the staff will be quite happy, then.” Harry bent down, pressing his open mouth against Louis’ shoulder. His teeth pressed just enough to tease against the meat of it. “I’ll be available for consultations, if that’s what you want. I can’t offer much, obviously, but.”

“Hey. It wasn’t-- It was never about that. We’ll keep working. We were working on this before you came along. But your shipment helped." Harry sighed. "Quite a bit, actually."

“I think if anyone can figure it out, it’s you,” Louis said, and he meant it. Harry’s face was blanketed in mild surprise, and he shook his head.

“I know this is a serious issue for you. It’s not--we don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s fine. I think you’re trying so hard. It just--” Louis shook his head. “Just reminded me how much our own leaders didn’t care. Set themselves up with a nice, high class ship and set off to a friendly planet, leaving the rest of us in the dust.”

Harry’s fingers trembled with every word, gripping Louis’ wrists tighter where they sat. How did Louis think he was faking it? It seemed ludicrous now. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, and he must’ve sensed that Louis was going to protest because he continued, “I know it’s not my fault. I’m just sorry you had to experience that.”

“I know. That’s why I think you’ll figure it out. You actually give a damn.” Louis continued to sip at his tea. Grateful for the distraction, grateful that Harry even went through the trouble to find it. He was at ease here, and he knew what he wanted. “Hey,” he started, toes poking at Harry’s thighs. “You want to know what I want?”

“Yeah?” Harry’s head cocked to the side, bracing his elbow at the edge of his seat. 

“For now I just want to listen to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Interrupted you before. Never did get to tell me about what you guys have found, what you're trying to do. You can tell me all about it. As long as it's not like, classified, I guess.”

“You want to know?”

“Yeah, it’s important to you, isn’t it? Tell me,” Louis prompted, and got as comfortable as he could while still cupping his mug. He laid down nearly horizontally on the sofa, feet getting propped up on Harry’s lap.

“Okay,” Harry’s face brightened for the first time that morning. He tucked his chin near his chest. “And then I want to hear all about your home, if you’ll share.”

“Deal.”


End file.
